


It Becomes A Chain

by skekshroom



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Accidents, Blood and Injury, Breaking Up & Making Up, Character Development, Denial of Feelings, Eventual Romance, FTM Reader, Gaslighting, Light Angst, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, PTSD, Pining, Reader-Insert, Reunions, Slow Burn, Team Talon (Overwatch), Temporarily Unrequited Love, Trust Issues, he's a sapio, male reader - Freeform, on and off pining, so many mf misunderstandings, you - Freeform, you're a himbo
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-25 22:22:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20033296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skekshroom/pseuds/skekshroom
Summary: Living with powers can be easily handled. Falling in love can be easily handled.Gravity can be easily handled.All you need is the right harness.





	1. (prologue) Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hehoho I'm writing self insert stuff but because I love you all oh so dearly I'm writing it as an x reader so y'all can enjoy it too ti voglio bene mwah xx

_ **A few years ago** _

You waved goodbye to your last student from your doorstep as the car disappeared around the corner and shut the door, yawning. You turned on some music and began to clear up the art supplies from the table, filing away pencils and paper and heading to the kitchen for a cup of tea. Rubbing your hands in anticipation, you boiled water as an aria by Maria Callas echoed through your speaker. You hummed along, waltzing around the kitchen to the operatic singing as the kettle mumbled.

The tea in this household was one of a kind. Why? Well, because you grew it yourself in your own greenhouse! You don't mean to brag, but your homegrown tea was unique to you.The flavor isn't always top notch, but it tastes like home and hard work. Effort, to you, has always had the sweetest taste. 

Better yet, it had a different kick to it each time! This time it tasted... Kind of bad, actually. Awful even. 

You gagged and rushed to the sink to spit up something salty and rotten, rinsing out your mouth and grimacing. You checked the bag, blinking back watery eyes.

No doubt, something rancid had spilled in your cupboard and all over your packaged tea leaves. No wonder your drink tasted more like fermented soy sauce than ginseng.

You rummaged through the cupboards. Forgetful, irresponsible (y/n), you forgot to make more.

On the bright side, that meant a trip to the greenhouse. Grabbing a small wicker basket, you headed out to harvest more tea leaves. You wouldn’t be able to enjoy them right now, they’d have to dry, but that's alright. There’s a Starbucks down the street anyways.

When you stepped into the greenhouse, the air was warm and fragrant, and it billowed through your lungs and invited you to exhale your worries. This place was always your own personal heaven. You passed by a couple of plants, smiling at them. To you this garden was precious, and it filled you with an immense amount of pride. Your climbing roses were soft and sweet to the touch, lavender had an excellent fragrance, your zinnias were vividly colored, your tomatoes were delicious, your orchids were… well, they were alive, right? No, actually, they all wilted and died because you are terrible at caring for orchids. Cursing under your breath (and completely forgetting the “no more orchids” promise you made to yourself) you whipped out your phone and began checking the nursery’s catalogue for orchids.

There was a faint rumble in the distance, like a jet passing by. You ignored it, waiting for your phone to load so that you may blow your money out on more plants that will die in a week. The song inside the house changes to Caruso. You mutter Italian along to Pavarotti’s powerful tenor voice as the rumble in the distance tugs at your attention. Alright, you’re getting a little worried now, what was that?

As if to answer your question, a circular shape blocks out the sun and you squint, barely making it out through the greenhouse’s glass. It looks like its not quite solid, like its emitting its own light, but your hazy mind barely has the moment to register what it is before it makes an impact outside. You duck behind your arms just as a deafening roar is paired by shattering glass and an incomprehensible force slamming you backward. Instantly, the world flashes white, then a deep black.

Caruso is playing. 

_ È una catena ormai. Che scioglie il sangue dint' 'e 'vvene sai.  _

You’re not going to wake up. This is the end.

Your eyes snapped open as the sunset beamed into them. Oh  _ God  _ everything hurt. What the hell happened!? Were you dead? Were you about to die? That would _incredibly_ cruel of fate to rouse you from such a deep sleep just to have you conscious while you die. Cruel and ironic… and kind of funny. You gave a breathy chuckle and instantly regretted it. Every move you made felt like hammers and nails and you hadn’t the slightest idea as to why until you tried to look at you hands. They were impaled deep in multiple areas on the thorns of your climbing roses. Had you said something earlier about climbing roses being soft? Irony was courting you and not at all being subtle about it.You peeled your bloodied, chlorophyll covered arms from their thorny entanglement and sat up, pushing off the many plants that had thankfully been blown on top of you. They took the brunt of the blast, and though your hands and feet were raw and covered in cauterized blood, most of you was fine. You whined and sobbed as you unstuck barbed vines and shrapnel from your neck, shoulders, and limbs, and took the liberty of looking around as you pried the thorns from your feet. The greenhouse was in shambles. The glass was broken, leaving the lilac western sky exposed and getting darker by the minute. Your plants were all uprooted, blown over, burnt, or crushed, but you didn’t have the time or the mental energy to feel sorry for your loss. You were just happy to be alive. You crawled over the mass of dead plants and sucked in a breath as you tried to walk. Your feet burned, and you were sure you were cutting them all over again on shards of broken glass. 

You ran a shower, hissing as the water hit your cuts and blood and dirt flourished into the drain below you. You closed your eyes, wishing you would stop swaying so much. You wished you could just… anchor yourself, somehow.

Your legs felt weird. You thought you felt something rip as you lifted them, but nothing but their already injured state looked out of the ordinary. 

You patched yourself up and fell asleep. You’d see a doctor in the morning. 

But of course you didn’t. You sat in your living room, in shock from the events of yesterday. Staring at the wall and losing yourself in the bumpy surface, you felt inexplicably decent. You still ached, sure, but not as much as you should for someone who just got caught in the blast radius of an explosion. 

How did that even happen, anyways? You kicked into a pair of slippers and walked outside. There was a crater, some coagulated debris, but nothing that said “bomb”. No shell. Nothing. You turned to leave, but found yourself stuck. Looking down, you let out a terrified yelp as your feet were, quite literally, rooted in place. Plant fibers covered your ankles like bright green veins, pulsing into the ground and gripping it. You felt yourself sway as you thrashed in your prison, helpless to the opening of your mouth. Your arm outstretched to catch yourself as you fell and out from your palms shot a thick vine that gouged into the earth. You were steadied by it, still for but a moment with your heart beating out of your chest. You gasped as the vine snapped and dislodged from your skin. You had no control of your body when it fell. You had no control over the terrified scream that ripped from your throat. It didn’t even feel like you authorized it. As if it were somebody else’s terrified vocalization.  


The plants, however, felt like yours. Before they detached themselves from your body and freed you, they were an extension of yourself.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plant powers turn out to nbd. Other stuff however? is big deal.  
Also finally! You meet Siebren

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any and all Dutch is 100% Google translate

_ **Present day** _

"Alright! So, do we have any requests? Roses, bonsai, squash, anything you see." Your students were deep in thought, until one of them raised her hand.

"Yes, Darcy, go for it." The girl put her hand down.

"Can we do sunflowers today?" She asked. You nodded, smiled, and opened the drawer from the plastic shelf that sat on your countertop. It was labeled with a small card of a sunflower and the name printed in swooping ink. You plucked from it a single seed and pressed it between your palms. It took barely a moment but you felt a sprout. A small plant grew from your hands, rapidly unfurling into a full grown flower in your grasp. You gave it an approving smile before you plucked it from your hands and dropped it into the vase. The students watched with smiles. No matter how many times people saw you do this, it was always something to marvel at, like a magic trick. An incredibly practical magic trick that had its uses in feeding yourself, others, selling flowers, and in this case, drawing a still-life of a sunflower.

"Alright, we're going to draw for mm... Lets go for thirty minutes before we move on to water color." Despite all the jobs your powers have gotten you, you never abandoned teaching art workshops in your home. In fact, you found this was the perfect way to integrate them both. Shortly after your first encounter with your newfound abilities, you were rushed to the hospital by your neighbors. You were sent from facility to facility until someone who could actually help you manage your fate did so. Over the span of several months you learned control and tested the limits of your power. You could grow anything from trees to moss and soon decided that this was in fact a blessing rather than a curse. You began getting accustomed to replicating plants, and it quickly became a normal part of your daily life. Although, to this day you still had no idea how they came to be. Everybody including you and every scientists you'd consulted with were in the dark about the strange projectile that had exploded near your greenhouse. The question was a constant tug in the back of your mind.

You complimented your students' work as you opened your tablet and got to emails from commissioners and scientists alike. By now, the novelty of attention had worn off and you were quicker to say "no thank you" to researchers looking to build partnerships with you to utilize your powers. You had a few art commissions you bookmarked to get to later, and plenty of agricultural companies who wanted to negotiate prices for your services. One however, caught your attention. A laboratory studying outer space in The Hague wanted to pay for your flight and visit. They were interested in your status in the scientific community as a "self sustaining organism".

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. What a pretentious way to say '_hey, we know you can feed yourself and they want to know how to get astronauts to do that_'. But then again, you could use a vacation. (Of course you knew this was professional but... Come on. They weren't going to keep you in the lab _all_ day, right? You'd have the chance to go out and enjoy some light tourism. Plus it's a _free flight and lodging_.)

You decided to respond, going through all the usual formalities stating in the most corporate way possible that you were willing an excited to work with them in The Hague. You closed your laptop, twirling your pencil before tapping it to the paper. You felt like you owed science something, but science also owed something to you. You participated in countless research efforts, but not _once_ could anyone replicate what happened to you. They couldn't even pinpoint how exactly it happened. You were beginning to believe that your willingness to contribute wasn't all because you cared about the advancements of science, but out of the sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, while they're doing blood samples and having you grow things for them, they'll be able to find out what it was that did this to you.

You made a face. It's not like you're asking to reverse it! You loved your powers. You spent far less on groceries, you felt great being able to feed people and plant trees. Life was great! You had no complaints! It's just... You really wanted to know. How did this happen? Why you?

You open the email back up and quickly send a follow up.

You ask if they can, at all, try to find out the origins of your mutation.

\----------------------

Siebren sipped his coffee, narrowing his grey eyes. What had he written there? Whatever it was, it was scrawled so quickly and carelessly in the heat of a breakthrough that it was almost completely illegible.

He squinted hard, but the word became no clearer. He was jolted from his thoughts as a brisk knock sounded on the white door of his workspace.

"Ja?" He called, turning towards the entrance.

_ <strike>Yes?</strike> _

"Jouwe koffie, professor." An intern shuffled inside, bringing him the extra caffeine he'd requested.

_ <strike>Your coffee, professor.</strike> _

He thanked them and asked them for the latest happenings. He was partial to gossip, for otherwise, he'd probably be completely oblivious to anything going on. He stayed almost exclusively in his lab and couldn't resist rambling on any time somebody came in the ask him a question. A quiet moment like this was rare, and an excellent opportunity to catch up with his surroundings.

"We hebben een gast. Zijn naam is (y/n) (l/n), en hij komt uit Amerika." The intern, knowing this, was happy to comply. They informed him of their guest, and Siebren nodded along, sipping his drink.

_ <strike>We have a guest. His name is (y/n) (l/n) and he's from America.</strike> _

"Iz dat zo? Om welke reden is hij hier?" Interested, the scientist raised an eyebrow. The intern looked excited. They grinned, looking around, and leaned in to stage whisper.

_ <strike>Is that so? For what reason is he here?</strike> _

"Dit klinkt vergezocht, maar ik hoor dat hij op commando en snel planten uit zijn lichaam kan laten groeien.." This bit made the astrophysicist choke a bit on his drink. He gave the intern a puzzled look.

_ <strike>This sounds far-fetched, but I hear he can grow plants from his body at will, and very quickly too.</strike> _

His look of disbelief melted as he rationalized it in his brain. That sounded a little more than _far fetched_, it sounded like a flat out joke, but who was he to say anything? Here he was trying to harness the power of a black hole. In this facility, anything was possible. He still took it with a grain of salt, though. Perhaps this was a rumor. This place was prestigious and of good renown, but not immune to tall tales and stories being passed around. No place ever really was. He thanked the intern for the coffee and the update and they were quickly on their way to deliver a paper to another professor's office, leaving Siebren alone with his thoughts and research.

If that was a rumor, that was a very creative one. If not... well, then it'd be definitely something worth seeing.

He chuckled to himself. Oh, who was he kidding? That was silly.

He stared harder at his scrawled notes. Suddenly it hit him.

Ah, it had been a variable he's written. Sigma. He somehow got his wires crossed and wrote out its name rather than the symbol itself.

\----------------------------

You had touched down at the airport and went straight to work. You did the usual, live demonstrations, samples of every kind, etc. But between all the activity and the jet lag, you were exhausted. Too much to to do much more than admire the view from the hotel room. It was beautiful, and there were people walking about on the sidewalk below. You felt tempted by the cool breeze that rushed in from your open window.

Alright, just one walk and you'll head to bed.

Elsewhere, Dr. Siebren de Kuiper had embarked on a similar path: a walk from the lab to his car parked all the way down the block.

Today had been long. It turns out that the rumors about the foreign man with the powers of botanical replication were true, and he had spent most of the day indisposed in the labs. Siebren strolled out and took a deep breath of the nighttime air. The sunset must have been lovely, if the dim wisps of fading sunlight behind buildings were anything to go off of. He kind of wished he'd hurried out of his office, as then he might have been able to watch it. That was one of the reasons he preferred to park so far away. The walks along the boulevard in the evening were exquisite.

On the downside, though, he had important papers with him to stuff into the back of his car and forget about, and the wind apparently decided it felt like picking up tonight. After it died down, he loosened his vice grip on his files, only for a sneaky breeze to take him by surprise and blow half the stack out of his grasp.

Siebren gasped and darted after them, pouncing on them and plucking them up from the pavement, muttering to himself. He turned to grab another before his hand touched not a paper, but another person.

He recoiled with a startled "oh" and his widened gray eyes attempted to make out the person in front of him.

"Ah, sorry," You handed his papers back to him. "You dropped these."

"Right, yes, thank y-" His smiled dropped as he spotted over your shoulder the last o his files. He tensed to make his way towards it, but the wind picked up before he could, and it whirled into the air, directly towards a channel of water that cut through the city.

Time seemed to go in slow motion as he stared horrified at his work about to be swallowed by the water.

He raised his arm, whispering a hapless "no" as it descended towards the rippling surface.

You lifted your hand, and in a second the paper was fluttering stagnant in the air.

Siebren couldn't register what just happened. There was a long, smooth stem protruding all the way from your palm, impaling his paper and keeping it in place. Slowly, the vine retracted into your skin, away from the water. When it got only a few feet long, you snapped it from your hand, turning it over to free the paper. You paused as you looked at it.

"Oh my God," You sputtered. "I'm so, so sorry I just- there's a hole in it now and I- I'm so sorry Oh God I really hope that wasn't important I'm so sorry."

"How did you do that?"

"I'm really really sorry, uh, I'm new here."

"How did you do that?"

"Ok not that we usually break people's stuff in America but- I- whatever, anyways I'm sorry."

You and Siebren stared at one another for many moments.

"Uh..." You panicked, holding out a hand to him. He tensed up, not quite recoiling but he did seem wary of the gesture after seeing how you'd just skewered his research paper. "Hi. I'm (y/n). I make plants."

Siebren could barely believe his luck.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The whole gig isn't as glamorous as you initially thought.  
(Plus there's that annoying "Dr. de Kuiper" guy, and that's a whole 'nother mess.)

_Ti volti e vedi la tua vita_

_Come la scia di un'elica_

Caruso is playing. You couldn't tell from where. The Song was distorted, and rang out in the distance from somewhere inside your head.

_Ma sì, è la vita che finisce_  
_Ma lui non ci pensò poi tanto_

You're about to die.

_E ricominciò il suo canto_

You're in the greenhouse and it's dark. It must be night, but you think, you can't see a single celestial body. You stare blankly ahead into the glass and try to make out your reflection, but nothing but the bleak void outside stares back at you. There's a light in the sky.

The moon?

It vanishes. Just as quickly as it appeared, it's gone.

_Te voglio bene assaje_

The greenhouse glass shatters in slow motion. You can't move. The shard of glass glide eerily towards you and slide into your skin as smooth and slowly as a knife cutting into butter. It doesn't hurt. But you're scared. 

You're terrified.

You look at you hands, but the shards of glass have already slipped beneath your skin and were swimming around like fish. Your skin rippled and bumped and protruded with something alive underneath it. It dragged along inside you, slithering, making visceral slicing noises as it grated past your bones. 

_Ma tanto tanto bene sai_

Mounds formed in your palms as what ever was slithering about beneath your flesh struggled to get free. You wanted to scream. The bump raised and raised and burst. Your flesh folded backwards, dry and raw. You didn't bleed. You had no blood. The only liquid inside of you was a sickly yellow fluid that coated the thorny mass of wriggling vines and torn tendons.

_È una catena ormai_  
_Che scioglie il sangue dint' 'e 'vvene sai_

Caruso was playing.

_È una cat ena orm ai_  
_Che scio glie il san gue dint' 'e 'vve ne sai _

The vines writhed, alive without your control.

_È u na ca te na o rm ai_  
_Che sciog lie il san gu e dint' 'e 'v ven e s ai_

Caruso was playing

_È a ca na mai_  
_Che sci lie il sa e di t' 'e 'v e s i_

Pull them back. Move them. Make them stop moving. Do something to show you're in control.

_È u at a mai_  
_Che sc lie il sa t' ' e i_

The greenhouse was glowing in your peripherals. Light. Dark. Light. Dark. But you couldn't take your eyes off of your busted open skin and the viens and ligaments that had been discarded carelessly over the sides of the holes in your hands.

_u a t a m i t e i_

Caruso was playing. 

_a u t a i t m e i _

The thorn covered vines moved. The raised from your arms, slowly, two twin snakes charmedby the distorted opera that haunted you. You watched as they ascended, up towards a light from an unseen source.

_a i t u a t m e i_

They snapped downwards, serpents striking and closing around your neck. 

Caruso no longer played.

You screamed.

_Aiutatemi!_

You woke up with a dry mouth in your hotel room, and sat up groggily. You raised a hand and a vine shot forward, curling around the glass on your nightstand.  
'_Yep_', you thought as you drank. '_Still in control_.' Your nightmare left you waking up feeling sick. There was some sort of song playing you couldn't place, and you couldn't remember exactly what happened either, but it left a rather unsavory taste in your mouth.

Then again, that could just be your breath.

Go brush your teeth (y/n).

\---------------------------------

Siebren walked from his car to the laboratory. As usual, he parked far away and enjoyed the walk. His hours were flexible, and rarely was he ever late, but he felt like hurrying today. Why was that? It was a good question, and one he asked himself fervently. His work was going incredibly slow, and he seemed not to be reaching the event horizon of any particular discovery.  
But he supposed it didn't really matter. The quicker he got there, the more time he'd have to work and _find_ that event horizon.  
He chuckled to himself, his nose crinkling. Alright, Siebren, what was it really? What were you so excited about?  
His own brain decided not to give up such privileged information, and it wasn't until he entered the lobby that it hit him.  
Or rather, you hit him. With an apple.  
Immediately you were upon him, apologizing up a storm.

"Oh my God I am so _so_ sorry Dr. de Kuiper! Are you alright?" You looked like you were about to cry.  
"Yes, I... I'm fine." He blinked hard, touching the spot below his receding hairline where the fruit had bopped him. His colleagues chuckled among themselves.  
How ironic, is it then, they said, that the man studying Newton's laws is hit by an apple.  
You however, saw no humor in it. You apologized profusely, explaining that you had been demonstrating for the others and recognizing him had startled you and the tree had detached from your hands.  
He looked down and surely enough, on the floor was a sapling with buds of sparsely developed apples.  
"Really, it's quite alright, Mr. (l/n)." He smiled, and put a hand on your shoulder in reassurance. "Its good to see you again, anyways."

"Oh! Uh, you too!" You smiled sheepishly, glancing away for a moment. "How are things going with what you're working on?"  
Stupid (y/n). That was a stupid question. You didn't even know what he was working on and he knows that. You were pretending to care just to excuse hurting him through your carelessness. Do you realize how rude you sound right now?  
"Very slowly," Dr. de Kuiper chuckled, lighting up. "And you? How are the tests going?"

Small talk was going to be the literal death of you. You bit back a grimace at the question and gave a half-assed reply about how you were honored to be here and contribute. You've done this about a million times and at this point, have learned to just smile, nod and interject occasionally with the fascinated "oh wow" or "really?". 

"That's fascinating, doctor! Well, I don't want to delay progress. Good luck in your endeavors." You smiled and extended a hand. "It was wonderful seeing you again." Dr. de Kuiper looked fascinated at your palm before he gave it a shake. _That's_ the fucking worst, when people did that.

"Likewise Mr. (l/n)." He chirped. He said something else, but you'd already disengaged, walking back to the small gathering of scientists and apologizing for keeping them waiting. Your face burned with his eyes on your back.

_Stop staring at me, stop staring at me, stop staring at me._

You followed the other doctors into the elevator and closed your eyes as you tuned out their murmuring and focused on the lift's melodic music.

You don't know why you thought you'd enjoy being studied like this. You hated feeling... less than human. And here? That's _all_ you felt. You should be used to being a guinea pig by now, but never before was anybody ever this on the nose about it. In the hospital and facility you stayed in, you were a patient. When you were hired by farmers to kick-start their farms, they treated you like you were a man with a talent. When you grew food and volunteered at feeding shelters, they treated you like a friend. Here, it was different.

You'd never been in a lab this scale before. You'd never been surrounded by people and not know what they're talking about. Maybe it was because you were away from home, but you couldn't help but feel lost and nervous. You began to regret coming.  
The doctors ushered you into a large glass tank with a bowl of seeds, and your stomach dropped as it was sealed behind them. Over a PA they asked you to create from the bowl and you nodded, gulping, as you timidly walked over to the container and plucked out a seed. Visible over a woman's shoulder was a reading of your vitals. You were suddenly hyper-aware of everyone's eyes on you as you got to work.

\---------------------------

Siebren must have been dreaming! That went_ incredibly_ well. Did you hear what (y/n) said? He said it was _wonderful_ seeing him again! And perhaps, and now this might be a stretch, but perhaps he might want to see him again! Should he ask him out for coffee? Maybe that would be too forward.

Oh hadn't the night they met been so memorable? He'd saved him from losing his work. That was wonderful.

Siebren ran his fingertips over the gaping hole in the paper he had brought with him to his desk. The power behind that vine skewering the paper was astounding, it was like a bullet! Oh but the man behind the weapon... (Y/n) must be busy, but later on, maybe the two of them could sit down at a cafe, and compare notes? (Y/n) must be some sort of botanist, but maybe he was an astronomer? He was probably a physicist! They could converse on a common subject. Oh, he had so many questions! He burned to know, how did he acquire those abilities? How did he learn such control?

Siebren grinned. The man must be some kind of genius. Finally, he found himself an equal.

\----------------------------

You left the lab that evening feeling ill. This was turning out to be more stressful than you ever anticipated. You were no genius. You had no PHD, no masters degree, nothing. You felt stupid here, and for the first time in ages, began to doubt yourself. Why had you been chosen to take on these abilities? You had no idea how to handle them! You didn't know shit about plants in space, you didn't know anything about-

Stop, (y/n), breathe.

You do know how to handle them. You use your powers for good. Feeding your community? Planting trees? That's worth more than some shitty degree. That's worth more than some stupid math equation you couldn't read. So what if you failed math throughout school? You helped people.

But maybe if you could understand the science behind it, you could be doing more. Better yet, you'd not have people breathing down your neck and feel so exposed as they watched you grow plants from as many places on your body as you could. You hated how they glanced between you and their screen, judgement on their features. You felt small under the laboratory lights. You didn't want to even see a damn seed anymore. You were sick of being studied everyday. You were sick of the poking and prodding and awful scenarios. They nearly drowned you yestarday to "simulate lack of oxygen in space"! You complied, knowing you signed up for this but... You were TIRED.

You heard quickly approaching footsteps-

"Mr. (l/n), hello!"

Oh great, it was _this_ guy. He kept popping up randomly this week, always pestering you. Hello, Mr. (l/n)! Mr. (l/n), hello! He couldn't take a damn hint and wouldn't shut up about his PHD. It was patronizing. He KNEW you weren't as educated and he wouldn't let you forget it. You responded with the most auto-generated shit possible and he still insisted on approaching you over and over, offering to show you his stupid research or equations you couldn't understand, or recommend some pretentious, expensive coffee you couldn't afford when you specifically told him your diet is being regulated. And now it seems like even AFTER hours he had to remind you he was better than you! What was it gonna be this time? He's smarter than you? More well liked? More educated? Richer? More handsome? Taller?

You glared at him, eyes red and glassy.

"What." Your voice was thick, and you hated it.  
"Oh... Mr. (l/n), are you alright?"  
"Can I help you?" You added, more forcefully this time.  
"I... This is probably a bad time-"  
"Yeah, it is." You muttered.  
"It can wait, never mind." Thank God. "Would you um... Do you need a ride home?" You grimaced. You should just tell him you're walking to yours. Or calling a lift. You looked into it, Uber was available in The Hague.

"Sure. Thank you." You were going to cry, how much more pathetic to this guy could you get? You followed him, tense as you held back exhausted, frustrated tears. Christ, how far did this guy park? You felt like you were walking into a trap. Suddenly you felt scared.  
"Where are we going?" You piped up, scowling. Vines began to sprout from your palms. This guy knew better than to try anything, you were sure, but in the off chance he did, you were ready now to turn him into a damn kebab.  
"I park a little far, sorry..." Dr. de Kuiper rubbed the back of his neck. He seemed relieved to speak, as if he'd been holding his breath this whole time. You glanced over at you, but you were shoving your hands in your pockets, nodding. He led you around the corner. Of course, his car was nice as hell. A black Tesla, a new model. Pretentious. You wordlessly got into the passenger seat, getting in before he had the chance to open the door for you.  
"Thank you for the ride, Dr. de Kuiper," You sighed as you put your hotel into the navigation. "I appreciate it." As if to further taunt you, Dr. de Kuiper beamed. He assured you it was not trouble, and you closed your eyes, pressing yourself back into the seat. This past week had been ridiculously uncomfortable, but this? This took the cake.

"How was work today? Did you make any progress with the tests? I've been dying to ask all week, actually." He chirped. You opened your eyes, glaring at the passing streetlights.  
"It was alright. I'm uh... I'm honored to contribute. As far as progress goes, I don't know. I don't even really understand what they're looking for anymore. All the math n' science is lost on me." You chuckled. "Major respect to those of you who work here every day... I couldn't. If I so much as _see_ another lab I'm probably going to cry." You glanced over at Dr. de Kuiper. He looked shocked. If you thought this couldn't get anymore awkward, it did.

"I... Uh, I don't mean that literally."

"No, no I got it. It's stressful."

"Yeah... S'probably why I never became a scientist, heh."

"You don't say..."

You frowned. Alright. That was enough. You were getting really damn sick of this guy and his sarcasm.

\------------------------------

It clicked suddenly. Embarrassment flooded inside of him as the realization shot down his hopes like a firing squad. Those glances you threw at him as you walked away? They didn't mean what he thought they did.

And you weren't the person he thought you were. His excitement had skewed his perception. Perhaps it was lack of socialization, all cooped up there in his lab, but his fantasies had ran wild. He was nearing middle age, but like a young boy he let those few interactions with you go off the rails and he built a false persona of you in his head. How foolish of him.

His heart sank as you recoiled from his comment.

"You can let me out here." You blurted out sharply.  
"Wh- what? Your hotel isn't for another-"  
"_Please_, let me out." You were already reaching for the door and unbuckling yourself as he began to pull over. Oh God, oh God he felt so stupid, he hadn't meant to upset you. What had he said wrong, how could he fix this?

Nothing he could say could fix this. He felt himself dying inside as you slammed the door. Hastily, he parked and got out of the car.

"Mr (l/n), please wait-"  
"Ohmygoddd-" You groaned behind your hands. He could tell you'd started crying.  
"I just want to know what I did to upset you, I-"  
"Look, I get it OK, you're smarter than me, I understand! Please, just stop hinting at that every time you see me? It's not subtle! I get what you're trying to say! You're in charge around here, I understand!" You whirled around, face flushed but you refused to let him see you cry. His heart broke. Had you really, this whole time, thought he was trying to assert himself over you? No, nonono that wasn't right at all! He'd been trying to impress you! He wanted you to like him!

"Mr. (l/n) I didn't mean it like that at all! I was... I wasn't trying to make you feel inferior." You waved, nodding.  
"Yes, yeah I know I know, forget what I just said, that was stupid." You interjected, voice cracking.  
"No, I understand how it could have been taken that way, I really do, I'm sorry." Siebren stepped closer. You wiped your eyes, closing them and pursing your lips. Your expression was tight as you let out a deep, shaking breath.

"it's alright. I'm sorry for the outburst. I just... This whole situation has been really stressful. I'm far from home, I'm here alone, I'm being studied like an animal I-" You swallowed. "I'm just overwhelmed."  
"I understand, I'm sorry, if I'd known I..."

He already hates you, Siebren, you might as well say it.

"Do you want to grab a coffee sometime?"

You looked dumbfounded, brows furrowed.  
"What?"  
"I've... been meaning to ask you. I know this is a terrible time, but I feel like if I don't put the offer out there now I wont get the opportunity later. You don't know how many times I've been trying to..."  
You laughed as if he'd told you a joke. It didn't make any sense. Nothing in this universe made sense.  
"You've gotta be kidding. This whole time I thought you were, I dunno, subtly threatening me," You sniffed, chuckling. "And you were just trying to ask me out. God, I'm about dumb as shit... I'm sorry about,"  
You gestured around, lips pursed into a tight line.  
"All of this." You looked aside, that same sheepish look on your face as you had when you'd accidentally beamed an apple into his forehead. "The stress got to me. Shit, this is so embarrassing, I feel like an asshole."  
"I promise you, it's more than alright. I know what it's like to be overwhelmed."  
  
You looked up at him, hopeful. For the first time, you looked like you actually believed what he was saying.  
"Right. I um... I'd love to, by the way. Coffee. With you. Get some. I mean-" You covered your face, and let out a long monotone groan. Siebren couldn't help but smile. He felt terrible that you'd been so scared and nervous and not told anybody. But, he was glad you finally had somebody here to talk to. He was more than pleased that it was him.

You, the real you, not the one in his head, were distrustful and anxious, cruder mouthed than he expected, and insecure.

But honestly? For the situation, you handled this all very well, he was impressed.  
You were not the prodigy he assumed you to be. (Though really, that was on him for putting you on that pedestal. He regretted the stress that had caused you, but he'd apologize properly later.) You were not some genius physicist.

The kick was, though, that you did not impress him any less. In fact, he was all the more intrigued.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I really misjudged him"  
At least you two can agree on something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> feat. more google translate dutch  
I'll probably have future conversations in english  
i will sacrifice authenticity to save myself the embarrassment of crappy dutch

Were you seriously doing this?  
Sure, Dr. de Kuiper was handsome. He was your type, literally. But you spent the last week thinking he was annoying as all hell, and then he watched you have a breakdown. Where did he honestly expect this to go? Say you guys hit it off. Then what? You go back to America and he stays in The Hague. There is literally no way for this to work. The dude is fucking delusional.  
But, despite that, you checked yourself out in the mirror for anything to fix. You looked great, and even if this turns out to be disastrous, at least you had an excuse to dress nicely. That always felt good, right?

You stared at yourself.

You were halfway across the world about to get tested on by scientists and then go out to a cafe at night with a man who worked there. This was a fantastic idea and you were amazing at making decisions.  
Sighing, you looked at your phone. Your ride was here.

\----------------

Siebren held his head in his hands. He had made a terrible mistake.

He asked (y/n) a forward question during a moment of weakness. He couldn't believe himself! Why had he said that!? How could he have taken advantage of his state like that!? He felt disgusted with himself.  
He had to talk to him. Apologize and tell him he'd thought it over and wanted to reconsider, or at the very least, ask him if he was sure or still up for it or...  
The knock at his door wrenched him from his thoughts.

"Yes?" He called. His coffee was here. The intern, Mag, stepped in. They frowned as they saw the distraught professor muttering to himself.

"Gaat het, professor?" They approached him, setting down his beverage.  
<strike>Are you alright, professor?</strike>  
"Ik denk dat ik een fout heb gemaakt." He mused, shaking his head.  
<strike>I feel I've made a mistake.</strike>  
"Hoezo?" Mag tilted their head. Dr. de Kuiper wasn't one to feel bad about making mistakes. He usually saw them as a normal part of the learning process. Whatever he did, it must have been a grievous error.  
<strike>How so?</strike>  
The scientist wrung his hands together, looking askance as he hesistated. This rose more red flags in the young intern. They repeated their question and it all came flooding out in one of his more characteristic rant.  
Dr. de Kuiper had asked Mr. (l/n) on a date, but he felt bad, because he didn't think Mr. (l/n) was in the right state of mind to answer. Mag asked if he was drunk, and quickly Dr. de Kuiper denied it. <strike></strike>

Not drunk, he said, just upset. The facility was stressing him out. Mag reasoned with him that Mr. (l/n) probably appreciated it. After all, offering to be a friend when someone is stressed can be very helpful. As long as he emphasized he wasn't coming onto him, he should be fine. Mag didn't understand what the big deal was.  
Suddenly Siebren realized there was another big deal. Oh dammit, he hadn't even thought about it! He didn't know if you even liked men! Or men his age! He had no idea how old you were, but you must have been at the very least over a decade younger than him, hell, even two!  
Now it was his turn to have a breakdown.  
Bewildered, Mag backed out of the room and quietly shut the door.

\-----------------

You discarded the hospital robe and stepped into your slacks. You scratched your chest, yawning. You could really use that coffee right about now. The tests today were demanding.  
After your outburst last night, though, you got the best sleep you had all week. Better yet, they were sparse in the questions they asked you. They simply took you to a large room and tested how big of a tomato you could produce. It was about a half meter in circumference, and immediately you were exhausted. This time, however, you voiced it. You told them that they tests they were running were a deep honor, but were taxing on your mental health. They apologized and you negotiated a break. You could leave early today, and have Tuesday off. You thanked them, and paused.

"How long exactly was my stay scheduled for?" You frowned.  
"Three weeks." Dr. Visser concluded. That was odd, you could have sworn the last time you asked it was only two. You shrugged it off as your poor memory and accepted it, thanking them again for their flexibility. You were not designed for this type of environment.

You stepped out of the small changing room and were greeted by an intern. Mag, you remembered was their name. They were flanked by two young colleagues. You figured they were probably students at the university run by the facility.  
"Hello, Mr. (l/n)." Mag chirped. You waved back to them as the gaggle looked you up and down. "You look very nice today, is there an occasion?" You shrugged.  
"Oh, uh- Thank you! Someone asked me out for coffee." You rubbed the back of your neck. The compliment took you by surprise, though not unwelcome.  
"Is it a date?"  
"Lara don't ask him that-"

"I'm not sure, actually." You shrugged. "Probably not, but if it is, I wouldn't mind." The girls were delighted, but Mag looked a little taken aback.  
"A date already! You must be very popular, who's the lucky lady?" Lara asked.  
You chuckled. Okay. You saw what was happening here. They probably had a hunch someone had asked you in a date, and were wondering if you'd let it slip who it was. Hell, they probably had made bets on who it was if the glances at the scientists walking briskly around the lab were anything to go off of.

"I believe his name is Dr. de Kuiper," You raised your eyebrows, checking the time on your phone. "Actually, I should be on my way to see him now. Ciao, friends." There was no response, but you didn't glance back to read their faces or their silence. They all began to talk over each other as you left the room.  
You walked out of the lobby to see Dr. de Kuiper standing there. He lit up as he saw you. Your face stayed quite the same.  
"Mr. (l/n)! I'm glad you're here. I was... well," He cleared his throat. "I realized that when I asked if you'd like to go to the cafe you um... You were preoccupied." He looked away, gripping his forearm and drumming his fingers along it. You raised an eyebrow.  
"I just want you to know if you've changed your mind, you're in no obligation to-" He went on for an obnoxiously long time. He went on some more and then he- What's this? Kept going on. You were tempted to check the time.

"Would you feel better if I asked you out?" You interjected. He paused, blinking rapidly.  
"Huh...?"  
"Dr. de Kuiper, would you like to go out to the cafe with me?" You folded your hands. His face went red and he smiled.  
"Why yes, I'd love to." You felt a tug at the corner of your mouth. You knew you were being a little too hard on him. He was astoundingly cute, even if he did go on rants at every given chance.

Honestly, admit it (y/n), if you weren't stressed out, exhausted and hungry as all fuck, you'd be all doe eyes and sappy over this man.

You talked as you walked to his car. It was much lighter in humor than it was the last time you had. In fact, by the time you two had sat down in the cafe, you'd officially began to give him a chance.

\------------------------------

This was hopeless. He tried to initiate so many intelligent conversations with him, but (y/n) was about dense as a rock. Basic physics were lost on him. When he said he "thought you couldn't see anything in space because there wasn't any oxygen", Siebren died a little inside. This man was not nearly as intelligent as he'd thought. It was incredibly disappointing. Perhaps that was on him though, for making such a quick judgement, but could he really blame himself? It wasn't unreasonable for him to speculate that (y/n) had been a man of science; that he somehow made the discovery of the ability of botanical replication through years of research and dedication. But no, he was just a _gardener_ who got into a bit of an accident. Siebren couldn't help but let his mind wander as the man babbled on about the mundane uses of his power. Now he's talking about his hometown. Still talking about his hometown. Oh, this was _tedious_.

(y/n) then asked him about his hometown. Christ, wasn't he at ALL curious about his work?  
"I grew up in Dokkum, Friesland." He gave a tight smile. He watched (y/n) perk up.  
"I've never heard athat name before." Of course not. "What was it like?"  
"Oh, rural, full of waterways," He picked at the tart he'd ordered. "I prefer Den Haag. I had my sights set on it for as long as I can remember. I towards a VWO specifically to work at the facility here."

"Wow," (Y/n) perked up. "That's impressive." He gave an amused smile. Honestly he could tell this guy anything and he'd be impressed. It was kind of disappointing. Siebren was really looking forward to finding an equal to his intelligence, to his repute. (Y/n) was far from either. This was beginning to be incredibly disappointing.

"That's something I respect about you, Dr. de Kuiper," (Y/n) nodded as he took a sip of his latte. "You worked towards where you are. You found what you liked and you stuck with it."  
Siebren raised an eyebrow. What would he know about hard work? He got to where he was by sheer happenstance. He won some sort of universal lottery to get to where he is.  
"What have you worked towards, Mr. (l/n)?" He sat back in his seat.  
"Oh, well," (Y/n) hesitated. Of course. "A lot of things, really. My job, mostly. I always wanted to do something in the arts, but I never wanted to fall into the 'starving artist' stereotype. I wanted to have a foundation. I grew up seeing people fail, and I don't know if that made me more determined to succeed or just more scared to fail. But, I made it. I teach classes and I now have another skill set to use."  
"And is that your struggle, Mr. (l/n)?" Siebren sipped his coffee. So he was some artist. Every city has some starry eyed artist who thinks he can make it big, and ends up working in a restaurant for the rest of his life.

(Y/n) drummed his fingers on the table.  
"A lot of my struggles have been, well, really personal. But I know what it's like to want to get out of somewhere, so I really respect your hustle."  
"Really? I thought you said you loved your hometown."  
"I do, I do. Not all places you want to outgrow are physical."  
"I see."

There was a silence that followed, that grew more and more uncomfortable. What made it worse is that it didn't seem to bother (y/n) as much as it did Siebren. The professor wasn't used to this kind of stillness. Conferences were debates with him. His seminars were long winded and interspersed with questions. They were fire and lightning and the power of the universe. They were not this.  
He watched (y/n). He was admiring the coffee shop, the gentle plays of a smile on his lips. He was... comfortable.  
"This is a really nice place." (Y/n) murmured. "The people here are so polite, and this coffee is delicious."

The damn silence continued until it forced Siebren to accept it. His racing mind calmed, even if just for a moment.

It was out of the ordinary for him, alarmingly so, to have nothing to talk about. His go-to subject would be his work, but he feared it was lost on (y/n). He'd spent his life denying his rural upbringing, so anything personal was out of the question and... And he didn't have a life.  
The though dawned on him, dreadfully so. He did not have a life outside of work. He took an interest in music, he attended symphonies, went to soirees, but the reason was always work related. He frequented social gatherings, but the focal point was always meet and greets with other minds in his field. He thought that's what this was going to be.

"You're an interesting person, Mr. (l/n)." Siebren broke the insufferable quiet. The man blinked his curious doe eyes and tilted his head.  
"Really?" He said. "Thank you."  
"You are far more... down to earth than I initially thought. Not that I expected you to be _arrogant_, of course."  
There was a thinly veiled insult, but it seemed to fly right over (y/n)'s head.  
"Thank you Dr. de Kuiper. I appreciate that." He grinned. "Same to you. I'm sorry I misjudged you earlier."  
Siebren thanked him with a dry chuckle.  
  
He suddenly felt hyper aware of (y/n)'s eyes on him.  
"Y'know, Dr. de Kuiper? You and me, we're the same." Siebren's eyes widened. What could be _possibly_ have in common with him but a lobby door? "I can tell you're the type of guy who wants to help people. When you gave me a ride home-"  
He was trying to charm a fellow scientist...  
"That was kindness. Now, I might not be educated into astrophysics or... or anything that needs math really, but I do know when people could use a hand. And I really respect people like you who give that hand."  
Siebren's face heated up.

"Oh... Thank you."  
"I don't mean to embarrass you-"  
"No, no, it's quite alright." He cleared his throat, aware his cheeks and ears were probably red. "I'm just surprised, is all. That's very insightful, thank you."  
"No problem, Dr. de Kuiper." (Y/n) nursed his latte. "I was really rude before. You should know that I really think highly of you. You're humble."  
He'd never been called that before.  
"What makes you think that?"  
"I can tell you see there's more to people than a degree."

Siebren was silent for many moments. He thought about that for many hours after parting ways.


	5. Chapter 5

That has gone so much better than you could have ever hoped.

Dr. de Kuiper- er, _Siebren_, as he gave you permission to call him, was an excellent listener. You felt instant relief around him. It felt good speaking to someone like a person again.  
He seemed to have been nervous, as he was tense as all hell for most of the meeting but... Maybe you were over-analyzing but he seemed to have a complete change in stature the longer you two talked. When you had told him how much you appreciated how he never intentionally made people feel inferior for being less educated, he changed. He loosened up, seemed to be more in his head. Or out of it, you couldn't really tell. But he was more in the moment. And that's when you two began to really connect.

When you went into the lab for tests, you didn't feel like you were stepping into some scary, foreboding place.  
When you saw him in the halls you no longer cringed when your eyes met.  
In fact, a few times, you had greeted _him_.

\------------------------

There was something out of the ordinary about (y/n).  
Siebren had come to respect a certain type of person, and he didn't fit it in the slightest.  
He had no PHD, no discoveries under his belt, no algorithm named after him.  
But he couldn't help but marvel at his anyways. (Y/n) was articulate, even if he struggled to get the words out. He was wise, even if most of the jargon the professors threw around went through one ear and out the other. He was a different type of intelligence, on he had been deprived of. Emotional intelligence. Spiritual intelligence.

He might or might not have believed in or respected any significance in these concepts, but that was beginning to change with every conversation he had with (y/n).  
(Y/n) was a man who analyzed and rationalized his emotions, other people, and understood their innate value and the balances in the world.

These things, (Y/n) said one night as they walked to his car, are things the textbooks cannot teach you. Resolve and kindness got him as far as he is, he said.

That was such bullshit. An accident got him this far.

Siebren found his thoughts of (y/n) once again souring as he was brought up in a conversation with Mag.  
Siebren had stood up, walked across the room to retrieve a paper from the filing cabinet, and sat back down to see Mag staring wide eyed at him.  
"What's wrong?" He asked.  
"You're not wearing shoes."  
"Ah. Right, yes." Siebren chuckled sheepishly. "(Y/n) suggested making myself more comfortable to reduce stress and, well, shoes have never been the most comfortable to me."  
There was a calm silence as he signed papers and jotted down notes.

"So, you and _Mr. (l/n)_ have been getting friendly, what's up with that?" Mag asked, finally setting down the astrophysicist's coffee.  
"It's nothing, just being polite to our guest." Siebren stared into his drink before tasting it. Guest was beginning to be an odd word to describe (y/n). The facility had put him through the application process for residency, and he'd flown home last week to get his affairs in order before he returned. For the next few years, (Y/n) lived here now.  
"Really?"  
"Mhm."

"That's good." Mag nodded. "There's a couple of girls in the bio-med department who have their eyes on him, I hear."  
Siebren paused, grimacing.  
"That's nice." He forced out. Mag read his silence with judgement in their eyes.

Hearing him refer to Mr. (l/n) by first name made Mag cringe.

Mag liked Dr. de Kuiper. They enjoyed attending his seminars, and coming in to bring him coffee. They liked him a lot and saw him as a trusted figure in the department. In fact, they kind of relied on him to be. Mag would be so happy for the professor to find love, but with Mr. (l/n) of all people? A mutant? A test subject? Can you imagine what would happen if he were caught in some scandal? He could kiss his job goodbye, and Mag would lose a teacher, a friend, an advisor and... And a job. Mag wanted more than anything to be an astrophysicist. They wanted that more than they've ever wanted anything in their life.  
Dr. de Kuiper was their foot in the door.

He had always been a reliable, trustworthy foot in the door but he was threatening to screw it up for the both of them. And for what? To pine after a lab asset? Mag put their time and trust in Dr. de Kuiper. They couldn't help but feel a little betrayed at his behavior. If he thought Mr. (l/n) was attractive, that would have been fine, but he was asking him out! Driving him home! Did he not understand how bad of a look that was for him? For the facility? Did he not understand what that could cost them? A reputation. A reputation worth millions.

Mag felt a responsibility to protect that. Dr. de Kuiper might not like this now, but in the grand scheme of things he would thank them.

"I think he likes Lotte, I've seen them talking." Mag watched the professor's eyes widen for a fraction of a second. "I think they'd make a cute couple, what do you think?"  
"I... Yes." Dr. de Kuiper set down his drink, blinking fast.  
"I hear she's going out with him tonight."  
"I don't know why she would," Dr. de Kuiper replied bitterly. "The only thing interesting about that hick are the plants he makes."

Mag smiled.

\------------------------

_You: did u already leave?_

_Siebren: yes_

_You: why?_

_Siebren: Aren't you busy right now?_

_You: uh no lol. are you?_

_Siebren: yes_

_You: oh! sorry. text me later maybe? missed our nightly convo_

Siebren glared at his phone. (Y/n) was playing him for a damn fool, as if he didn't know he was out somewhere with some ditzy fucking physician. He paced around his living room.  
He'd been talking to (Y/n) for weeks. Not _once_ had he even mentioned Lotte, he didn't even know they knew each other! But now they were dating? ...And he didn't tell him?

Siebren knew he had no authority whatsoever over (y/n)'s life. They had no label. He didn't even know if he had the same feeling's towards him but they were _friends_, weren't they? Why wouldn't he tell him as a friend, and save his heart the trouble? Why did he have to hear it from his intern?  
He wasn't angry. He felt like he should be, but he wasn't. (Y/n) didn't lie to him. (Y/n) hadn't led him on. It wasn't (y/n)'s fault for living his life, and he couldn't for a second blame Lotte for becoming infatuated with him.  
After all, he had. Siebren had once again got himself into this situation. He once again overthought and let a fantasy version of him take precedence over reality.

  
He didn't text him later.

\------------------------

Siebren didn't greet you the next day. He didn't even look at you for more than a moment, but you were sure he saw you. You couldn't find him later, and he didn't text you afterwards.  
You'd had enough of the dodging. After they had gotten you to test your powers in soil harvested by drones from various planets, they gave you free range. Without hesitation, you made a bee line for Siebren's study, nearly bumping into an intern carrying coffee as you ducked past them.

You knocked on the door, and a monotone "come in" echoed from somewhere behind the door. You stepped in, closing it behind you.  
"Hi." You said gently, walking over to him. He glanced aloofly.  
"Hello, Mr. (l/n)." He replied.  
"Okay, what's wrong?" You frowned, leaning a hip on his desk. He glared.  
"Nothing. Can I help you?"

"Yeah, actually." You bent down, folding your arms over the edge of his table. "First off we haven't spoken in days, you've been avoiding me, and now you just called me 'Mr. (l/n)'. What's wrong?"  
"Nothing. Nothing is wrong. I'm busy, you should get back to your testing." He snapped. "You're in my space."  
"I'm sorry." You stood up and sighed. "Sorry. Yeah. I get it. Sorry I just- Just thought I did something to upset you." It was so achingly obvious that you had, but what? You began to walk away, slowly. Very, very slowly.  
"Can I ask you a question?" He blurted out. You turned around without hesitation and nodded, returning to his side, He turned to face you.

"Are you... and Lotte..." He couldn't seem to get the words out, but you could.  
"Who?" You asked, bemused. Whoever this Lotte person was, they seemed to be upsetting him. You don't know what you said wrong- or right, but Siebren had completely changed his demeanor.  
"You don't know Lotte? Lotte Bakker?"  
"Should I? That doesn't ring a bell.... wait is that my doctor?" The confusion was genuine, and only grew as Siebren leaned back in his chair, laughing in relief. "No, seriously, Siebren who is that?"

"Nobody, I got my... wires crossed, as you say." He shook his head, chuckling. "Sorry, (y/n)."  
"Ohhhkay," You smirked. "Weird but okay. I'm glad we worked this out."  
"I am too."

\---------------------

Mag quickly, and as discreetly as possible shut the door and lunged away from it as it opened, and inconspicuously passed Mr. (l/n) as he exited and they entered.  
"Coffee's here, professor." Mag tried to act oblivious, but knowing exactly why the scientist was smiling was grating their nerves.  
"What's got you so happy?" They asked casually.  
"Oh nothing," He chuckled. "Just realized something."  
"And what might that be, professor?"  
"I take rumors far too seriously."

Mag's heart sank.

Dr. de Kuiper had never once doubted their word.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey whats up! this chapter is   
A) SHORT  
B) definitely personal, so if you don't agree with my methods of handling this topic... shit idk what to tell you because i have literally no idea how else I'd handle this irl ?? drop a comment or something idk

"So, what did they make you do today?" Siebren asked you as the two of you strolled along the mosaic paved walkways by the water channels.  
"They did blood tests and tried to grow tomatoes from samples of my DNA." You yawned.  
"Do you want to get something to eat?" Siebren offered. You smiled, nodding.  
"Ooh, yeah I could eat." You hummed, burying yourself into your scarf. "Let's make it a date."  
"About that..." Siebren stopped in his tracks. You slowed your pace, looking over your shoulder curiously. He looked like he wanted to say something, and a twinge of curiosity and anxiety pricked at your cut.  
"Yeah?" You piped up, suddenly daunted by how much you cared what his next words were. He stared down at you, catching the sunset and periwinkle sky behind him like the foreground of a painting.

(Y/n) stared up at him with those curious, bright eyes. the breath caught in his throat and found not the words to speak. His shadow over him, he had a sleepy look to him that made the scientist want to reach out and stroke his cheek. He refrained, opening his mouth to speak before he was cut off by a loud gurgle.  
"Oh uh," (Y/n) looked embarrassed, holding his stomach. Siebren chuckled. The poor man was probably starving.  
"Don't worry, it can wait."

\-------------------------

"I can't believe you haven't tried kibbeling yet! You've been here how long now?" Siebren grinned, sitting across from (y/n) as he happily ate the cod from the food truck. He chewed slowly, holding up a finger as he swallowed.  
"Like, two months? Three? I don't know. In my defense, I just get delivery." (Y/n) marveled at the food. "This is so _good_! What was it you were going to tell me earlier?"

  
"Right, yes..." Siebren took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He opened them slowly, the first thing he saw being (y/n)'s expectant face, still chewing.  
"(Y/n), I've been having such a wonderful time with you. Talking with you, seeing you every day... I want to ask you something. I want to be exclusive with you. Is that something you might want?"  
(Y/n) stopped chewing. He swallowed, blinking quickly, lips barely parted.  
"U-uhm..."  
Siebren's smile faltered. Had he moved too quickly? Had he read the signs wrong?

"S-Siebren I- I think we," (Y/n) swallowed again, looking away. "Can we talk about that?"  
"Yes, of course." He said quietly.  
"So I didn't tell you this earlier because I thought, well, we were just friends and I'd eventually get over you- I like you, by the way- and not have to worry about it until it became, well, relevant, but it is now." (Y/n) rubbed the back of his neck, and glanced around. Siebren frowned, bewildered. Well, he wasn't going to tell him that he was straight, or seeing somebody else...

"You see, I'm transgender. And everyone has a right to their preference so... So I'm going to tell you that. And let you decide the next step." (Y/n) sat tensely, as if he hadn't had to tell anyone this before. For whatever reason he was nervous, Siebren hoped it wasn't because he thought he'd react negatively. Sure, maybe that changed a couple of things in their future, but if he had learned anything from being enraptured by this man's soul, it was to welcome change.  
He opened his mouth to speak, finding the words. Should he tell him that he's surprised? Would that be rude? He had no idea. Siebren couldn't lie, the revelation threw him off his rhythm.  
"Take your time." (Y/n) murmured awkwardly, lips pursed into a tight line and fingers drumming on the two seat table. "You can uh... think on it, if you want."

"I don't have to." Siebren declared. You winced, expecting from the force in his voice for him to stand up and leave you. He put a hand over yours.  
"(Y/n), you're nervous, look at me," You did, brows knitted. Your gut clenched. This was overwhelming. You thought you might need a few minutes alone. "Thank you for telling me, but that doesn't change anything. Do... Do _you_ need a moment?"  
You grinned, shaking your head. You put a hand over his and squeezed it.  
"No, now that that's out of the way, no." You nodded. "But to answer your earlier question... yes. Yes, I'd like that very much."


End file.
